


Abnegation

by DLByrne



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/F, F/M, Gore, Mystery, Original Character(s), Other, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLByrne/pseuds/DLByrne
Summary: Abnegation: The act of renouncement or rejection; self-denial. Insomniac Shinji Yamaoka, finds a bleeding girl on his apartment balcony. He helps her inside and hurries to find a bandage for her. When he returns, she is healed. After several questions, he lets her stay. In the morning, she is gone. Soon after, his life spirals into insanity. (Any and all critiques Welcomed and Appreciated)





	1. Aberration

He grabbed a can of mocha coffee and went to checkout. There was a small line, despite how late it was, he wagered the line had early plans tomorrow. He himself had plans, to meet a friend at the library to study before classes. He wanted at least six hours of sleep but looking at the clock behind the cashier, he knew it would more likely be four – if he was lucky. The cashier was a young woman and she smiled at him, he smiled back briefly with even shorter eye contact. He lowered his eyes to the counter between them.  
The door clattered shut behind him, the bell ringing in consequence. He glanced back and saw the cashier looking at him, he paused, then looked away and went on down the backstreet the corner-store was on. It was foggy out, a sprinkle in the air, like this part of town was blanketed by a cloud. The streetlights were blurs in the dark and he felt uncomfortable. As he always did when alone at night, after all, someone or something could kill him without repercussion. It was quiet save for the distant horns of traffic. He stopped beneath a streetlight and took the mocha can from the tiny plastic bag. The sound of the can opening was louder than he hoped and he looked around, at the windows of nearby apartments and a dark alley. He was overly aware of his insomnia then, making him touch his stomach that then growled. He shook himself to remember where he placed the change then rummaged it free from his left pocket. He moved his lips silently while counting and thought, ‘Should have got some snacks too. But then again...’ He weighed the money. ‘I am getting light on money. Very light.’ He pocketed his money into different pocket and sighed.  
He kept his eyes to the ground, spotting a dirty flier just before he stepped on it. It was waterlogged and faded with age, dirtied also by mud and mold, but he made out a first name and the lower-half of a face that was mostly ruined from the elements.  
“Shinro...”  
He unlocked his door and went inside, reversing to shut it; he rested his back on the door for a while, just staring at the dark room before him that was dimly invaded by moonlight. He sat down in bed with a heavy sigh. The apartments he lived in were soundless tonight, or maybe it was too late for anybody to make a sound. Again, the only sound he heard was traffic, even fainter now despite the thin walls. The night carried on around him while he laid in bed, his eyes shutting and opening now and then, as they normally did when he tried to sleep. ‘Just do as sis told you that night. Shut your eyes. Empty yourself. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.’  
It was dark when he woke up and when he checked the time on his phone, it had only been an hour. He mumbled and sat up, his back to the wall. ‘What to do...’ He went for the TV remote but stopped halfway. He grabbed his phone and browsed an image board for five minutes before putting his phone back on the nightstand. He toyed with the lamp’s chain, debating whether to turn it on or not, ultimately deciding not to - ‘I don’t want to wake up yet.’ He returned his back to the wall and gazed at the painting opposite him. ‘I don’t get it.’ It was a beach at sunset, the horizon was crimson, the rest of the sky cast with gray clouds that became darker when nearing the horizon, eventually becoming black nimbus clouds. He stared at the painting for awhile longer before finally returning to rest. Just as his awareness began to fade, a tapping broke his burgeoning dreams. He peered over his shoulder, his tired vision blurred what he saw but he could still make out what was there. There was a person kneeling on the balcony, pressed against the door glass. He got up as fast his tired body could and opened the sliding door, the person collapsed in the gap he made. He knelt down and helped them – more so dragging than anything else – over to his bed where he laid them down. It was a girl. He turned on the bedside lamp and noticed that she was sullied in blood. He slightly lifted up her shirt to reveal a slash that spanned sideways across her stomach. He lowered the shirt again and left to the bathroom, rapidly and repeatedly asking himself what he should do. There was nothing useful in the mirror cabinet, just small bandages for paper-cuts and expired prescriptions he hadn’t taken in years. He threw the medicine away and rushed back to the girl. He stopped. She was sitting up, her back to the wall, staring at him.  
His mind was scrambled, he was unprepared for what had happened. His thoughts snapped in and out instantly, changing yet remaining the same, in that, the subject was always the girl.  
He stood between the rooms, in the doorframe, looking at the girl who stared at him with a pale face. He shook his head and cleared his throat before saying, “You should rest, you don’t look good…” He walked slowly towards her and she kept her eyes on him. She didn’t blink, he blinked repeatedly. His hands were up, like he was begging or surrendering. Truthfully, he was trying to be nonthreatening, to get her trust, even if only slightly. He was at the beside now, he could hear her breathing now, she sounded scared.  
“Are you okay?”  
She tilted her head. “Are you?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“I am...” she said. “I’m okay.” She smiled.  
“I’ll call an ambulance.”  
“No,” she said with head-shake. “Don’t do that.”  
“You’re bleeding…”  
She stared at him.  
“You’ll die.”  
She chuckled. “Probably, but not right now.” She lifted her shirt. “See.”  
“...”  
Her stomach was red but there was no gash anymore. She just looked lathered in red paint. ‘A regular magician, huh...’ he thought. ‘Why’d she come here then? Why… here. Say that.’  
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.  
“You are? Really?”  
He nodded. “Yes.”  
“H’m...” she eyed him up and down and smiled. “Why, aren’t you sweet.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, I hardly know you and you hardly know me. Yet you care about me, a complete stranger.”  
“Stranger or friend, it’s human to care about people bleeding their insides out.”  
“Human?” She laughed, hard.  
‘She’s fine. If she had that wound… her guts would be all over my bed right now from her laughter. She had that wound, I know she did.’ He sat on the edge of the bed. He held half his face. ‘Am I going crazy? Side-effects of sleep-deprivation?’ He grabbed his head and sighed. “What the hell,” he said. He felt a touch on his shoulder.  
“It’s okay.”  
He looked over his shoulder. She smiled at him. A purely innocent face, if he ignored the blood on her right cheek. He looked away, at the painting. It still didn’t make sense to him, but somewhere within, he was able to feel it, the redness of the sky and its reflection beneath, the dark clouds forming about it; his chest hurt.  
“Hey, mister.”  
He turned to her. “Yeah?”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Oh, it’s… Shinji Yamaoka.”  
“Yamaoka, what a nice name.”  
“And what’s yours…?”  
“Ah, excuse me. You can call me. Shinro Masahiro.”  
“Shinro...”  
She smiled. “Yes. Nice to meet you, Shinji.”


	2. Connection

Shinji sat down with a groan, the wood of his seat did the same. The man sitting at the same little table as him, looked up at him.  
“Didn’t sleep so well?”  
Shinji remained silent, staring blankly towards the baristas.  
“Oi, Shinji!”  
Yamaoka shook his head and blinked several times, seemingly surprised, before looking at his friend. “Yes? Sorry, Jun.”  
“It’s okay, man. Did you sleep well?”  
“Not really.”  
“No kidding?”  
“Do I look like it?”  
“You look like a regular ray of god, my friend.”  
Shinji smirked. “Thanks, Mikami.”  
The waitress arrived and gathered their orders. Jun watched her walk away, nearly leering.  
“Stop that, Jun.”  
“What?” Jun looked at Shinji with a grin. “She’s cute, what can I say.”  
“You don’t have to say anything, just stop looking at her like that. I like it here. I don’t want to be kicked out because of you.”  
“Roger roger, fella.” Jun waved dismissively then leaned toward him. “You don’t find her cute?”  
“I do, but I don’t expose myself like you do. You’re practically an exhibitionist.”  
Jun extended his arms outward, in a taunting gesture. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But who wouldn’t want to see me looking their way? Look at me.”  
“A lot of people. Me included...”  
Shinji stopped mid-sentence, hearing the giggling of baristas behind him.  
Jun’s grin grew wider. “Ha, see. They love me, all of them!”  
“You’re wrong.”  
“How so?”  
Shinji shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re laughing at you, not with you or anything like that.”  
“What? No… you’re wrong. They love me! Ain’t that right, ladies?”  
The women giggled before they all gave their own form of assents: most said yes, others laughed playfully, and in the reflection Shinji saw almost all of them nod.  
“See, Shinji, see. They do love me.”  
“Sure...”  
There was a brief pause between the two.  
“Jun, how close are you to being done with your work?”  
“Very close, very very close.”  
“You’ll be done by tonight?”  
“Probably. If I feel like it. You know how it goes.”  
“I wish I didn’t.”  
“What’s that mean?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
“Yeah, yeah. So, anything interesting happen on your weekend.”  
“Nope. Nothing at all. Honest.”  
“You never really were a liar, Shinji. Now, what is it? Tell, tell.”  
“I met a girl.”  
“Oh! Went clubbing without me? Not very nice of you, Yamaoka, not very nice at all.”  
“I didn’t go clubbing, idiot.”  
“Huh? Then how’d you meet a girl… Online dating? You always were one for forums and that kinda thing.”  
Shinji shook his head. “No. I met her in my home. She was on my balcony.”  
Jun furrowed his brow.  
“What do you mean she was on your balcony, you’re on the third floor.”  
“I know. But she was there anyway.”  
“You sure your locks were fine when you came in?”  
“Yes, I’m sure, Jun. I am certain there was no breaking and entering involved.”  
“Okay, so she was one of your neighbors.”  
“She just may have been.”  
“Been? Where is she now?”  
“I don’t know. She was gone by morning. I was really tired too, so I fell asleep after I helped her in.”  
“Tired… sleep. Knowing your sleep schedule, she may have just been an illusion for all I know.”  
“Illusion?”  
“Yeah, you hear about people getting hallucinations from being awake too long. Businessmen and army men especially. Give yourself a break man, you worry yourself too much.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t say sorry, least not to me, apologize to yourself.”  
“No.”  
“Ah, Shinji, always the stubborn force.”  
Shinji glared at Jun, who reciprocated with a soft smile. Shinji inhaled and exhaled several times then took a sip of his coffee. It was cold.  
“Anyway, that’s all basically. I really hope she was just a dream or something.”  
“Me too, man, can’t let you be losing it before me, that would be totally unfair of fate.”  
Shinji chuckled.  
The two met again after classes, on the walk home. They waited at a stoplight. The sky was gray, again. And Shinji had a feeling it would rain tonight, or sooner. ‘I’ll stay inside,’ he thought. ‘Probably study or browse. Both. Who knows. I should probably turn in early tonight. Don’t want to meet her again, or something worse.’ They crossed. Jun lightly hit his shoulder. He turned to look.  
“What is it?”  
“I’ve been thinking.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“You know, you may have been visited by a spirit.”  
“Me, visited by a spirit? Why me?”  
“Who knows, maybe your past self did something sketchy.”  
“Like what?”  
“Murder or worse.”  
“I highly doubt that. And I mean everything you just said. Besides, why should I be responsible for my past self? It isn’t me. The me I am now.”  
“I know but karma comes back round eventually, even after death.”  
“I don’t think that’s how that works, Jun.”  
“Maybe, maybe not.”  
“You got this whole spiel from a movie… didn’t you?”  
“I may have.”  
“Come on, Jun. Things like that aren’t funny in the slightest.”  
“To you, to me they’re alright.”  
“So much for being a friend.”  
“Hey, come now, Shinji, I am just warning you. And besides, would you rather a spirit visit you or an actual human stranger? I’d take the ghost everyday.”  
“I’d have to think on it.”  
“Yes, yes you would. Well.” Jun stopped and turned towards Shinji. “I got to be going home. Mom’ll kill me if I’m late and I have a handful of things to do on top of the chores she already wants done, oh, how life and blood is cruel to me, Shinji. Please, pray for my good fortune, otherwise I just may die from a rattled soul.”  
“You’re more likely to die from a rattlesnake. And okay, I will pray for you. But you don’t need prayers, or luck, you got your charisma and inheritance on your side. Don’t even need to work you fool. I wonder if the ladies back there would ignore you living with your family?”  
“I don’t know, Shinji, but once they hear about my bank account, probably.”  
“See. You don’t need prays for luck. You already have it. Now stop your whining and go home already.”  
“Alright, alright. See you later, Shinji, I’ll text you or something. And be sure to keep your phone off of silent, so you can stop using that excuse every time you leave me on read.”  
“I will. Bye.”  
“Goodbye.” Jun waved then walked off.  
Shinji remembered then that they should have gone to the library that morning rather than the cafe, but he was tired that morning and rather rattled from last night. He needed the caffeine. He had very little worry for his classes, he studied well enough, it was more so his mental health that worried him, it had fallen off quite a bit during his first year due to the jolt of all the work his classes required. It had also taken a hit from last night, moreover Jun’s suggestion of hallucinations just exacerbated his already hurt psyche. He would need therapy eventually, when he could afford it. He could barely afford the apartment he rented, which was more like a cubicle to him than a living space, after all, all he did in there was study; he was too stressed to do anything else. His nerves already wrought from his life were now being aggravated by the girl of last night and what she meant: he had heard the rumors. Ever since childhood, folk told him of them, indestructible monsters haunting streets and alleys, hunting humans… he couldn’t remember what they were called at the moment. He severely doubted their existence. There was almost no evidence. There were videos online, sure, but they all were of poor quality, and any that were of exceptional quality were so well done that you could only conclude them to be fakes. But what he saw was real, damn whatever Jun said to him. He wanted to see her again, he was curious after all.  
He pulled his apartment key from a zipper-pocket on his jacket and put it in the lock. The lock clicked and he turned the handle. The door opened a crack before stopping with the sound of the door-chain. He grabbed it and pulled on it. “Hello?”  
A face appeared in the crack of the door. It was her and she smiled at him.  
“Oh, hello Yamaoka, how are you?”  
“I...”  
“Just a sec, I’ll let you in.”  
“Okay.”  
She removed and opened the door fully. She was wearing a towel, her hair was wet, and the distinct smell of water and soap was in the air: he could see the steam coming from the bathroom door.  
She bowed and said,  
“Welcome home, pardon the intrusion.”  
He stepped inside.  
“I’m home,” he said.  
The weight lifted from his shoulders, the weight of worry, yet he couldn’t say why that was exactly. The door shut and she stood behind him. It was very quiet and he heard the barking of a dog several blocks away. The sun was declining on the horizon and the apartment air was close to his skin. He heard her laugh behind him. She grabbed his arm and lead him to his bed. She sat him down. She wore a kindly face. His eyes shut. He smelled coffee.


	3. Benevolence

He awoke and turned his head towards the wall, but instead of the white plaster he saw her face, Shinro Masahiro’s, which was nearly as colorless. A feeling of surprise came to him but also a sense of comfort. He hardly knew her, and she him, but yet he a warmth filled his chest nonetheless. He brought his head back to resting upon the pillow. He looked down and saw her arm across his chest, he felt the other on his back, her hands finger-locked at his side. She snored softly in his ear. He stared at the shadow-speckled ceiling aloft that made images to his mind that the lines in the plaster would never make without his imagination: he saw her and him walking hand-in-hand in the park down the street, he saw them at the cafe, he saw him introducing her to Jun, then his parents, maybe even marriage but his thoughts stopped around there. He found it funny, that he thought of her in this way, but he was not at all surprised since he had crushes before. Almost every summer since puberty in fact. This would probably be no different were not for her being in his home, on his bed as she was now. She was not naked, he made sure of that last night. She almost insisted on it, and when he asked why she said,  
“My clothes smell horrible.”  
“Wear mine then,” he had said.  
And so she did.  
They were big on her, for she was likely half of his weight or even less. He could probably hold her up if he wanted but not for that long, he could barely hold up anything that was over fifty pounds. He was all fat and no muscle, but he was not overweight, he hadn’t been for over a year. He began to fast everyday, skipping lunch and that resulted in his weight loss. He had an inconsistent diet though and ate junk way too often for him to be skinny, his diet became much worse after he enrolled into the university. He blamed it on late nights trying to cram in homework for a morning class. Remembering school, which he had forgotten until now, he looked at the clock: it was five-thirty. ‘I have an hour and a half,’ he thought. Trying his best to let her rest, he rolled towards the edge of the bed until her grip loosened and he was free. He fell but he caught himself as best he could, there was a slight thump upon his landing and he looked up from bed’s edge to see if he woke her. She stirred slightly, turning her back to him, and continuing to snore. He exhaled, thankful that she remained asleep. Despite his infatuation, he could not bare to talk to her – not out of annoyance or the like but rather just fear. ‘Agoraphobic,’ he thought. ‘That’s the word for me.’ The two had shared only sparse sentences last night and he went to sleep promptly after sitting down.  
He went to the kitchen and gathered what he needed to make breakfast, being unreasonably cautious of his every move, whether it was opening a cabinet or drawer or placing down a bowl and spoon. He shut the fridge door quietly, making sure the bottles on the door did not clatter, then he went to the small square table that he ate breakfast every morning. He poured the milk and set the carton beside the bowl then sat down, pulling his chair in as cautiously as he had with everything else. He chewed a small spoonful of cereal while looking forward, outside, past the glass of the slidingdoor. He focused on the skyline and the myriad skyscrapers that were like giant mirrors reflecting the blue sky. Past the city and buildings he saw clouds gathering round the mountaintops. It would rain tonight, he felt. Ever since he was born, this city’s streets were always wet, for the city was in the constant wake of rainfall. ‘I don’t believe a week ever has passed without rain, no matter how light.’  
He gulped up the dregs of his cereal, wiping his chin when finished. He started the coffeemaker and checked his phone for the time. He had an hour now. ‘I’ll leave soon… thirty minutes.’ The coffeemaker gurgled and hissed, and Masahiro moaned with displeasure at the noise. She stirred in the sheets for awhile until her eyes finally opened and she lifted herself to look into the kitchen and at him. She rested on one arm and used the other to rub her eyes.  
“What time is it?”  
“Six.”  
She flopped onto her stomach with an annoyed sigh. “You wake up way too early.”  
“I know.”  
The doorhandle was cold in his hand, he almost let it go but kept his grip and waved goodbye to her as she sat at the small square table, holding a steaming coffee cup. He walked down the narrow hall toward the elevator. A stained carpet was underfoot and grime ran up the walls, the windowsill at the end had moss where it opened. ‘If I look hard enough, I’ll find mold no doubt. But this is all I can afford.’ He entered the elevator.  
Classes went without hitch, save for the restlessness he felt through them all. Both of his morning classes had tests, and he was doubtful of how he did on them.  
He and Jun went to one of their favorite restaurants: a burger place called Beef Burg. Shinji ordered an elk-burger while Jun ordered a beef-burger – medium-well and medium-rare, respectively. A television installed in the wall played the news. A man’s corpse was found in a large dumpster, the police concluded it as a murder. The killer was still on the loose.  
“Isn’t that scary?” Jun said.  
Shinji nodded. “I guess.”  
“You guess?”  
“Yes.”  
“You don’t really gotta guess about this sorta thing.”  
“I know. But it’s on the other side of town. I doubt there is much to worry about now. I wager the killer has gone and jumped town. You’d have to be stupid to stay after doing something like that.”  
“You say that like you’re some specialist, Shinji. Should I be worried about you? Here’s hoping they don’t find your prints on the scene.”  
“Idiot. If they did I wouldn’t be with you now.”  
“So you are a pro, knowing to cover your hands and not leave a trace. But spilling your confession on me is risky, I could report you.”  
“I’m no expert, I’m just using common sense. So please for the sake of my sanity. Shut up.”  
“Fine, fine. Just having a little fun, is that a sin?”  
“I’m not a minister so I don’t know.”  
“Neither do I. I’ll say no.”  
“Then I say yes.”  
“Always against the grain, Shinji. You’re a real piece of work you know that? Something becomes popular, you’re first to hate it, then you croon me to sleep with praises of some obscure thing that I nor my mother, no, my whole family, hasn’t heard of. You’re insufferable sometimes, man.”  
“Same said for you.”  
Jun shrugged, chuckling. “That’s fair, but only to you I am insufferable. Everyone else loves me. Right?”  
He said the last word aloud, looking about him. But this time there was no response, just the silence of the wind whispering at the windowpane beside them.  
Shinji smirked. “I guess they don’t love you so much if you don’t tip them a lot.”  
“Ugh, you’re such a sour pot.” Jun lowered his arms. “And I can’t tip everyone, even I have my limits. I’m not a well of money, otherwise I would pay for you to live in a better place.”  
“Look out everybody, we have a philanthropist in our midst.”  
“They can’t hear you if you mumble.”  
“You heard. That’s all that matters to me.”  
“I’m the only one that does.”  
“Not for long.”  
“Whatcha mean?  
“I met that girl again.”  
“Ah, then you must be dreaming. Nobody would dare return to you after talking to you.”  
“Then why are you here?”  
“I am, as you said, a phil...phil...philpist.”  
“Nearly there but no winnings. Philanthropist was the answer. Anyways, she and I haven’t talked that much.”  
“My, isn’t she blessed.”  
“Very rude.”  
Jun laughed. “I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay. Besides, if I just have you as a friend...I’ll need a therapist by the end of this semester. So it’s good I met her.”  
“Yep. I’m happy for you, truly.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Well,” Jun ate the last bite of his burger. “You and I got to get back to it, lunch is basically done.”  
Shinji nodded.  
They got up and went to the register. The bill was split. Shinji payed for Jun’s, Jun paid for Shinji’s. The restaurant’s electric bell dinged as they left through the automatic doors.  
Just before they left for different classes, Jun put a hand in front of Shinji and stopped walking.  
“Before I forget, Shinji, what’s this girl’s name. That’ll let me know if you really do got a friend or if your mind has finally hit the ghost.”  
“Shinro Masahiro. That’s her name.”  
“Masahiro Shinro...sounds familiar. Anyway, got to go, nice to see you’re heads still on your shoulders.”  
Jun tapped Shinji on the left temple then jogged off. Shinji watched him go away while rubbing his temple.  
His afternoon classes went on without trouble, no tests and just more homework. He stuffed his things into his backpack, slung it onto his shoulders and left. He waited in the front of the school for ten minutes before remembering Jun had one more class then him and wouldn’t be due out for another hour. He left since neither had made much plans to hang out that day.  
He stopped by the convenience store and got another mocha. The cashier was an older man rather than the woman from before and Shinji kept his eyes down during the entire interaction. He signed the receipt and made to go but stopped at the doors. There was a notice-board beside the exit and there were all sorts of fliers for events, job notices, and missing persons posters, he never knew so many people ended up missing. He focused on a particular poster. It looked almost unrecognizable without being stained by mud and filth, without being practically ruined by water… it was the poster from the other night, now with a full face, and a familiar one. He read the name aloud:

 

Shinro Masahiro  
Missing  
Reward of 1000  
Call if you have any leads  
After he unlocked the door he was not met with the resistance of the door-chain, but instead greeted with the smell of meat being cooked. He shut the door, took off his shoes and went inside.  
Shinro was in the kitchen, her hands in oven-mittens, even though she was just using the stove-top. She wore an apron. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.  
“Welcome back home.”  
“Thank you.”  
Two steaks were in the pan she held, her other hand holding a spatula. She flipped the steaks and the meat sizzled, she moved the pan slightly to and fro over the heat. She pointed the spatula at him without looking and waved it.  
“Can you grab me the salt? I couldn’t find it.”  
“Sure.”  
He gave the salt to her and she thanked him while salting one of the steaks.  
“You know you didn’t have to do this for me.”  
“Oh but I did. After all, you let me stay with you.”  
He looked at her, sighed, then nodded.  
The steaks were done and they sat across from each other at the tiny table. Their knees knocked together once and he scoot his chair back a bit in response. She smiled at him. He smiled back.  
“How was your day?” she asked.  
“Good. Yours?”  
“Great, nothing bad at all truth be told. I went to the market and bought these two steaks. They looked too good not to get them.”  
“I see.”  
It was silent for a while, just the sound of the plate moving every time Shinji cut a piece off of the steak. He kept his eyes down, intermittently looking at her, while thinking, ‘That poster must be a mix up. That can’t be right. She’s here in my home. Right there. She talks, she breathes, she eats. She is there. Why me then? What happened to the other people she may have crashed with? Should I call that number? No. No… I don’t need that reward. I need this.’ He swallowed his last piece of steak and sighed.  
“Thank you.”  
“No problem.”  
He got up, taking his plate and putting them in the sink, he rinsed all his dishes then went across the kitchen linoleum onto the carpet of the living-room. If he could call it that, the place was too small for it be really called that, but then again, he had no idea what else to call it; most living-rooms had televisions and places to sit, it just so happened that he watched from his bed rather than a couch. He sat down then moved himself to where the bed and the wall met, shifting into a comfortable position before relaxing his body and shutting his eyes. His thoughts raced about all the information he got today and from the fatigue of it all his thoughts began to form into dreams, but right as they did… someone knocked at the door. He opened his eyes to an empty room and got up. She was gone or hiding, he went to check the bathroom but the knocking came again, louder than before. He stopped himself and went to the door peering through the peephole: a middle-aged looking woman was on the other side, wearing a suit. He unlocked the door.


	4. Relations

He covered the doorway with his body as casually as he could, looking at the middle-aged woman. She looked back at him, looked past him through what cracks his body could not cover then back to him.  
“Hello,” she said.  
“Hi...what do you need?”  
“A moment of your time if you please.”  
“Okay. Sure. Excuse me.” He stepped out and closed the door. “Sorry. It’s embarassing.”  
“That’s fine.” She had a dead gaze. “Now...” she pulled a folded paper from her coat-pocket.  
Shinji eyes widened for a second. The lady took no notice of his discomfort and for that he was thankful, but he was not thankful for the lady being here at all.  
“Have you seen this girl?” she nearly shoved the unfolded poster in his face.  
He looked at the face of Shinro, doing his best to look like he was mulling it over through his mind, pretending to not have a clue who was photographed on the poster.  
He shrugged. “No.”  
“That’s fine.” she said, lowering the poster.  
“Sorry.” He grabbed his door handle.  
“Hold on.” Her voice was cold.  
He halted and looked back, she put the poster back in her coat then pulled out a small wallet. She pulled a card from it and held the card out for him. Her hand was still. He took it.  
“Call me if you hear anything, all right?”  
He nodded.  
“Thank you for your time.” She began walking away.  
He looked at the card. Then at her. And back to the card again.  
“Mariya Itou.”  
He watched her enter the elevator with a wooden gait.  
Shinji returned to his apartment, he kept double-taking the card he was given. ‘Private Investigator? Really? But there’s no private before it. Just investigator.’ He put it on the small table then looked up and saw Shinro on the balcony. He opened the slidingdoor but stayed inside.  
“I thought you left,” he said.  
“I stayed.”  
“Where were you?”  
“On the balcony.”  
“I didn’t see you.”  
“That was the point: I was hanging off the side.”  
“You’ve got the strength for that?”  
“Yes. See?” She held out her arm to him.  
He touched her arm: it looked slender but when touched, he realised that the flesh beneath was strong.  
She stepped away and flexed, smiling. “Do you want to fight? Arm-wrestle?”  
“No.”  
“Good. You woulda lost an arm.”  
He laughed.  
She didn’t.  
“You’re being sincere?”  
She laughed. “No! But you believed me, didn’t you?”  
“I suppose...”  
She laughed again, hitting him softly in the shoulder. “You’re so easy.”  
“Easy?”  
“Easy to read. You’re real fun to be with, Yamaoka, your really are.”  
“Thanks.”  
The night proceeded as it had before, for nothing had really changed, he was paranoid the night before too, it was now only more incensed by this meeting with Mariya Itou. He did not mention it to Shinro. But -  
“I know that lady,” Shinro said.  
He was silent.  
“She’s been following me for a while now, I should file for a restraining order.” She rolled over and looked into his face. “Do you think that’d help?”  
He turned his head. “I don’t know.” Shinro’s eyes were black. So was her hair, which she kept short. “She seems pretty official. She gave me a card.” He got up and went to the table, got the card then gave it Shinro. ‘No point hiding it now, she already knows,’ Shinji thought.  
She examined the card closely. “A very nice font she chose, the paper too.”  
“How do you know she chose it?”  
“I don’t. But she seems the type to do that.”  
“I guess.”  
He sat back down. The rain bickered against the slidingdoor glass. He got the remote and turned the television on. The news, a documentary, a romcom, some dark anime; none of them interested him so he shut the television back off. He leaned back until his head landed on something soft, his eyes were shut, and he heard Shinro laugh.  
“My, you’re forward.”  
He opened his eyes and saw her looking down at him. His head was on her lap. He wanted to get up and say sorry, his cheeks were red but he remained where he was, shutting his eyes again. “Sorry,” he said.  
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” She ran her fingers through his hair, the length was slightly longer than hers. “You have nice black hair.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Mine’s dyed.”  
“Is that so?”  
“Yes. I thought it was obvious.”  
“Not to me.”  
“You’re not very observant, are you?”  
“I suppose not.”  
He exhaled. Inhaled. She smelled pleasant, of soap that he didn’t have ‘I guess she bought that too.’ but also of her smell, her body. The smell of the steak stuck to her too. His stomach growled. She chuckled.  
“Still hungry.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Want me to make you something?”  
“A burger, if you could.”  
“Sure. I bought more than the steaks at the market. A whole lot of meat.”  
“Really?”  
“Really.”  
She lifted him up and got up, putting his head gingerly down onto a pillow. She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge’s freezer door. He heard the freezer fan howl and the cold air hit his arm, making the hairs stand up. “Look.”  
He peeked over the edge of the bed and saw the freezer full of red, like a sea of blood. “Wow.”  
“I know, right.”  
“Yep.” He returned to his back, shutting his eyes.  
She grabbed one of the packages of meat and went onto her toes to grab the buns from atop the fridge, then she went to the stove-top, turning on a burner and grabbing a pan from the stove-drawer. She quickly made two big patties and put them on the now fire-hot pan, the fat and blood screeching from the heat. She hummed a song to herself, and it was one he heard before but from a time that was hard to remember, it was an old song like a nursery song that his mother crooned to him while taking his crying baby self into her arms from the crib some weekend night.  
The weekend was tomorrow, so about seven hours, maybe. He didn’t check the time, he didn’t want to think about time. It’s all he worried about, even before all this, but even more so now, since he knew his time with her was finite; he looked at her without moving, looking by arching his neck and putting his irises toward his eyelids. ‘You’re not someone who stays long, huh. I bet you’re not. You don’t seem the type. Then why do I care about you, why am I being like this towards you. Anybody else, I’d probably have brought you in personally, accepting that thousand dollars. It’s not a bad thing to do actually...you’re missing, not wanted or anything. If anything, what I’m doing now is the bad thing. But I don’t know her story, why she is a missing person, she may be a runaway, and if she wasn’t she would be home by now. Her circumstances could be complex too though… maybe she was tricked into running away and the person she ran away with was a bastard and so she got away but doesn’t want to return home out of shame/her home life is just as bad as I think it is in the first scenario.’ He hit his forehead. ‘You’re overthinking it. Just ask her.’  
“Hey.”  
“Yes?”  
“...”  
“What is it Shinji?”  
“Nothing...”  
“Okay.”  
‘Don’t ask. You’d scare her away. She’ll run away from you just like she did from that bastard, just like from her abusive family. Wait. Stop. None of that is true. She has no injuries, not anymore. She had an injury… right? She didn’t just paint her stomach and crawl here for me to accept her out of remorse. She had an injury, I saw it clearly across her stomach, bleeding all over her: I can see it, even now. It happened. It was coming out of her mouth too, she had to wash her chin and lips. I watched her. She showered that night too. What is she, who is she, where is she from… when will this end? Do I want it to?’  
“Here you go.”  
A plate came into his view. He sat up and accepted it. “Thank you.”  
“Welcome.” She smiled then took a bite off her fork.  
He chewed, it was lightly salted but he tasted nothing else in terms of seasoning. Not even ketchup, but it was juicy enough; it was good. He pointed at hers. “No bun...Want to trade. You try mine, I yours.”  
“Sure.”  
They traded plates.  
He took a forkful of hers. It was bloodier than his, and his was probably medium-rare. He didn’t even taste salt. He still liked it, even though it tasted different than any beef he tried before but - ‘You haven’t had a beef-burger in a long while. You and Jun never trade… maybe we should. It feels good for bonding. I feel closer to her, I know what she likes.’ He looked over to her. She was chewing. “Here.” They got their respective plates back.  
He noticed there was no bite in the bun, but the meat was missing a small chunk. He looked at her while she scooped another forkful of her patty. ‘So strange.’ Her gaze rose and matched his. “What?”  
“Nothing,” he said.  
“Something’s bothering you. You’re extremely bad at hiding it.”  
“It’s nothing, I mean it.”  
“You don’t mean it. I can see it your eyes, your face, your body. You’re uncomfortable, anxious. And not to be self-centered, but I’m guessing it’s about me.”  
“...”  
“So it is.”  
“I mean…I...”  
“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.”  
“Huh?”  
“Care to tell me what is about me you’re worried about?”  
“It’s,” he went quiet.  
She tilted her head. “Is…?”  
“Everything...”  
“Ah. I can tell you about me, everything. And I mean, everything you know.”  
He nodded.  
“So, promise.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise to stay with me.”  
“Okay...”  
“Okay what?”  
“Okay, I promise.”  
“Good. Now give.” She held out a hand.  
He looked down, his burger was only half-eaten. “Why.”  
“Trust me. You won’t want to eat after this.”  
He studied her face then assented by giving his plate.  
“All right. Now...” she sighed. “I, don’t really know how to say this or phrase it. I’ve never done it before, so I’m guessing I’m bad at it. So don’t laugh or be disgusted or something, okay?”  
He nodded.  
“Above all, please stay with me. I don’t care where we go, we can stay in this apartment forever if you want. But whatever happens, just stay with me please.”  
“And… if I don’t?”  
“She stared at him, glaring, he felt his heartbeat go up. “I’ll...” She stopped. “I’ll.” She exhaled, looking down at her hands. He heard her whisper: say it, come on, say it.  
“I love you, Shinji Yamaoka, but if you leave me, I’ll kill you.”


	5. Feeling

“I am not human,” Shinro Masahiro said.  
Shinji wanted to laugh. Not because he found it funny, but because of the absurdity of it. She was as human as any other person he came across, zero distinct differences. She was off, yes, but everyone, everywhere, was a bit off. It went quiet.  
“Then,” he started. “What are you?”  
“You must of heard of us before. Even here. You have the internet. The news. Concrete may be like stone but you are not beneath a rock, Yamaoka.”  
“I...” He tried to make sense of it, to try and dig up some sort of memory at all related to what she suggested. It brimmed in the empty spots of his memory, but otherwise he only found blanks for whatever she meant. “I don’t get what you mean.”  
“This place is peaceful, but I never guessed this peaceful. Then again, we do blend in rather well, even when we binge. Humans kill humans, why would they suspect anything else but humans when considering murder. They don’t expect us. Or me.”  
“You’re talking different.”  
“I am. I’m sorry for using a facade.”  
He looked at her then away. ‘She tricked me. Whoever I was speaking to just a minute ago, wasn’t real. A trick. A lie. But a white lie… I hardly knew that person, that fiction. This is okay. Honest. What do I lose from her saying this, professing this, I… lose nothing. It is good she did it now, rather than later. Before I fell in love with her persona, instead of her, the real her. Now I get to know the real her, am I ready? Am I?’  
The sun was gone, hidden somewhere in the black sky. No stars, only the dancing lights of the city, reflecting in on themselves. A car. A dog. Sirens far away, on the other side of the city. The rain had become a sprinkle, a fog, nearly imperceptible and streaking down the pane of the slidingdoor. The lights becoming a hazy, opal mixture falling through the glass and making shadows play across the apartment.  
“A ghoul,” Shinji said.  
“H’m?” Shinro came closer, her head at an angle.  
“You’re a ghoul.”  
She was quiet.  
“I remember now… I read articles, saw some videos, but I never believed it. I always thought it was made up.”  
Shinro shut her eyes.  
“Are you going to kill me?”  
Shinro opened here eyes. Shinji nearly leaped from the bed. Shinro grabbed his arm. She brought him close, the pull strong, showing her real strength. They were face-to-face, his breathing fast, hers quiet – like her breath disappeared. He stared into her eyes, for that was all he could do, he could not look away nor close his eyes: he was afraid.  
Shinji stared. Shinro’s eyes were an abyss with a red iris. The redness, like blood, seeped down from the blackness onto Shinro’s cheeks, tangling and knotting together like the limbs of a warped tree were intaglio’d into her skin. Shinji opened his mouth, paused, his breath caught between his throat and tongue, he shut his mouth. ‘Don’t run,’ he thought. ‘I don’t want to die. Not like this.’  
“Shinji.” She blinked, moving closer. “Are you afraid?”  
“No.” His voice shaky. “I’m not.”  
She smiled. “It’s okay to be, you should admit it.”  
He was still, quiet.  
“Well,” she said. She moved to the other end of the bed. “I’ll leave you be.” She got up and went to the restroom.  
He watched her leave until the bathroom door shut. He returned his gaze to where she sat. ‘I’m not afraid. My body reacts that way, an instinctive reflex to the strange, the unnatural… my eyes and my mind thought her a threat, a predator. But she is not, if I was I’d already be dead. I, the me who is really here, in this mind of mine, controlling this body, is not afraid. I am not afraid. I am surprised. Confused. What am I suppose to feel. I’ve only seen sketches of those eyes before, not hers, but her kind’s, and I always thought it as a joke, a scary story told to scare the irresponsible. The monster in the closet… is now in my home. Its eyes glow blood-red, but warmly and kindly. If she eats me, so be it.’ The toilet flushed, the sink went on then off: Shinro returned. Her eyes back to normal. She smiled at him.  
“May I ask you something?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you know of a nice place nearby?”  
They were the only ones in the park. They sat at a bench, beneath a dead streetlight, Shinro insisted to sit there: she stared at the sky. Away from most of the city, the stars were visible but neither of them knew any of the constellations, not even the dipper. The soft droning of engines filled the silence. A sough-sound from the branches behind them, Shinro’s loose-fit clothes swayed in the passing breeze.  
Shinji peered sideways at Shinro. ‘She’s a question with no answer, people are troubled by their existence, there are people discriminated against just for minor discrepancies. She needs human flesh to survive, and from what I have heard, there’s more to her than just those eyes. Truth be told, I did research on her kind once, but shallow research. Surface-level stuff, it all was too unreal to pursue further, and… I was also afraid. They were official reports with plenty of evidence, plenty of bodies; no minimal pixel videos of some shadowy figure, but actual sketches and writings that were as scientific as basic biology. I forgot about it all. I wanted to forget. Nothing happened here, not recently, maybe not ever, not in my twenty years here since birth. Then you just show up.’ He turned his eyes to the big building in the middle of city. It was new, built two years ago. He’s never been inside, but he passed by it once or twice when he visited Jun. Agoraphobia kept his eyes to the ground, and for the second or third time since the building’s erection, he noticed the letters put upon the building.  
“CCG,” Shinro said.  
Shinji turned and looked at her. “Huh?”  
“The CCG, both surprising and not that they are here. My kind are everywhere. So why wouldn’t they have a base here.”  
“CCG?”  
“Commission of Counter Ghoul.” She turned to him, smiling. “The good guys.”  
“The good guys...okay.”  
“Yep, and I’m the bad guy. The villain.”  
“You don’t seem that bad of a guy… I mean, girl.”  
“I’m not Shinji, I was joking. I have never done any villainy. As have most of the sorts I hang out with.” She stopped and grinned. “You’re no villain, are you Yamaoka?”  
He looked away, at the building. “Me? No.”  
“So abrupt! Very suspicious...”  
Shinro leaned her head onto Shinji’s shoulder. “Oh well,” she said. “It matters not if you are a villain or not, but in reality, no matter what you did to me, or anyone like me, you’d be the hero who slayed the monster. Ah. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
“It’s okay.”  
“No… I meant saying anyone. I should’ve said anything like me. Things, my kind are just things to be thrown away from existence.”  
He looked down at her, her eyes were half-shut, he saw the red glow of her irises. He put an arm around her. She shifted her head to get comfortable. “Is this real?” she said.  
“Yeah. I’m here.”  
“Thank you.”


	6. Fermata

Shinji left early for classes that morning, long before Shinro awoke. Shinro’s eyes opened at around noon. She looked about the room, taking a double take, though this was her fifth day at Shinji’s. It was the longest she had been with a human, or a ghoul, for the first time in a while. She rubbed what dreams stuck to her eyelids then stretched out moaning with satisfaction before sighing and relaxing herself. She grabbed the pillow Shinji slept on and held it to her chest. A warmth ran across her cheeks. ‘You’re a strange one, Yamaoka. But I am too.’ She set the pillow down and went to the slidingdoor, staring at the skyline. It was a clear, gray day.  
She put on her shoes, her hoodie and backpack, and went to the balcony. The smell of exhaust and rain hung in the air. She looked at the street below and neighboring buildings ‘everyone’s away right now, at work or some other hangup, it’s okay’, she climbed onto the balcony parapet. She leaned forward. She fell for a millisecond then pushed herself off the concrete apartment, soaring across the street and rolling onto a single-story roof. She stayed where she landed, turning onto her stomach. ‘You already have meat,’ she thought. ‘You have enough to even share, and you shared it with a human no less. Does he know he’s a cannibal now? Is he gonna turn into a wendigo? Come in with a deer skull on his head one day.’ She laughed. ‘Sad that they don’t exist, but I do.’ She rose into a crouch and opened her backpack, pulling out a mask and putting it on. The mask was modeled after a raven, and resembled a mixture of a gas mask and plague doctor. She put on her hood and slung her backpack onto her shoulders, exhaling. She sprinted towards a neighboring building.  
A ringing came from her backpack. She stopped and brought her backpack to her feet and crouched. She opened it and grabbed her cell and answered.  
“Hello? Uh-huh. Got it. I’m nearby. Lucky you got me while I was out. Bye.”  
She traversed several rooftops before stopping and looking between two roofs into an alleyway. A figure knelt there, above another figure, she heard the crunching, tearing, and chewing. She dropped. The kneeling figure froze and looked back at her with wide eyes. They softened when seeing her.  
“Ah, it’s just you, carrion. Here to take a piece?” the figure said, a female voice.  
“You could say that.”  
They threw a bloody piece. “Here.”  
She caught it, lifted her mask slightly and put it in her mouth. She wiped the blood onto her pants.  
“It’s good, yes?”  
She nodded. “It is. But you have to stop.”  
The figure rose and turned toward her. It was a girl, older than her but not by much. A year perhaps. “Why?”  
“You’re like a poacher, some conservationists will come in soon if you don’t stop feeding like this. You can eat. But you must learn to control yourself. Lest you ruin the play.”  
The girl’s eyes narrowed, an empty look was in her gaze. “And what if I don’t?”  
“You know what.”  
There was a pause between the two, they both stared.  
The girl looked away first. “Okay...All right. I’ll stop.”  
“Thank you. You can have the body or leave it. Doesn’t matter.”  
“I’ll leave it to you, I’ve lost my appetite.”  
“Okay, Kirika.”  
“Bye bye, little carrion.” Kirika grinned, her mouth and teeth blood-red.  
“Goodbye.”  
Kirika walked past Shinro. “We’re not vampires y’know, no need for this masquerade-esque bullshit.” They exchanged a glance, Kirika turned away with a shrug. Kirika jumped up the walls to the rooftops while Shinro walked over to the body.  
Shinro set her backpack by the body and took a hacksaw from it. She looked in front of her then behind her. ‘You may binge, Kirika, but at least you know to hide it. Missing posters come anyway though...’ She sighed and began sawing the left leg.  
She pulled the last limb off then looked at the decapitated head. A businesswoman ‘You have to stop it...they follow patterns you know. They can profile you.’ She grabbed a cloth and began wiping up blood and other fluids.  
The backpack zipper shut and she rose, looking at the former murder scene. Not a speck left, and she made sure almost nothing was on her, she looked at her hands. Spotless but in her mind she saw plenty on them, gallons and gallons of blood dripping through her fingers and covering her body. She shook her head. ‘Stop it. Come on. You volunteered.’ She took her phone out. “It’s done, I’m coming in.”  
She kept adjusting the backpack as she walked along. ‘You got a bigger one this time, you were hungry… or thought you were. Eyes bigger than your stomach. At least it won’t go to waste.’ She stopped above a small neon sign in an alley, and dropped. She entered through the black door. No one was inside, not even a bartender. The heavy smell of incense was in the close air. Candles set at every table and three on the bar-counter. A gothic mosaic was set behind the bar, depicting a hanged person in the forefront and a city as the backdrop. She sat at the bar, the stool was red leather ‘this place always looks so expensive.’ She leaned forward onto the counter, her chin resting on her right palm. A faint scar ran down her right arm that she touched with her left forefinger. ‘Weak. So weak.’  
Her cheek was on the wood counter, a small pool of drool forming around her face, she snored lightly.  
“Hey,” a voice said.  
A nudge. “H’m?” Her eyes remained shut.  
“Wake up.” Another nudge.”  
“Huh?”  
“Ah. So you can use words?”  
She rose to her elbows, rubbing her eyes. “Yeah. I’m not exactly one for them though, Hal.”  
“I know. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep well?”  
She opened and shut her eyes, trying to make them remember to stay open, then rubbed them again. “No, not really. But I got a really nice place to stay.”  
“Oh? That’s good...who saved you from your cardboard box?”  
“I’d rather not say.”  
“Fine by me.” Hal sniffed the air, scrunching his face. “I can smell that you know.”  
“Oh, sorry.” She bent and grabbed her backpack, placing it on the bar. “Here you are.”  
He smelled her backpack. “That’s not it.” He looked at her. “It’s you.”  
She frowned, lifting her collar, and giving a couple small sniffs. “Oh… you’re right. These clothes are old.”  
“How old?”  
“...”  
Hal crossed his arms. “How. Old.”  
“A year...maybe two.”  
“That’s disgusting, Masahiro.”  
“I’m sorry… I just haven’t had the money for new clothes.”  
“We’ve offered you money for your work.”  
“No.”  
“Why?”  
“I don’t want to make money from this...it wouldn’t feel right.”  
Hal rubbed his beard. “Well, if that’s what you want. Fine. But at least let me give you some new clothes. All right?”  
“O...kay. Nothing to flashy though, and no heels.”  
“Of course.”  
She looked at herself in the mirror: a black overcoat, white blouse, gray jeans, and monochrome running shoes. “These aren’t very much my style, Hal. But they’ll do.”  
“They don’t smell at least.”  
She glared at his pale face in the mirror.  
“What?” He said.  
“Nothing.”  
She turned toward him. “I got to go soon. Got anything for me.”  
“You need more food? You asked for most of your donations last time.”  
“No. Not food. Something else. A gift I guess.”  
“Such as?”  
“I don’t know… wine? Some flowers. A candle? Something, almost anything will do.”  
“Just a sec...”  
He returned with a new backpack.  
“I don’t need that.”  
“Oh, but you do. You may have smelled worse but that backpack is still bad.”  
“Okay...I guess I got all the use out of it.”  
“A month is pretty long. Usually we go through them in about a week or so. Sometimes less.”  
“Good for me, I guess. Where’s the present?”  
“It’s in the backpack. Same with your stuff.”  
She grabbed it and put it on. “Thanks.”  
“Not even going to check?”  
“No. It’ll be all right, I trust you, Hal. Bye.”  
She felt odd outside in the new clothes. It was raining and she couldn’t help but notice that there was no hood. Her her hair pomaded down with rainwater, reaching the edges of her eyelids. She didn’t mind that much, though, now that her face was naked to the rain, she had fantasies of moving far away from this concrete rain-forest: she’d be on a phaeton, pulled by an alabaster horse, in a place with rice patties and where the air was interminably soupy.  
Her eyes blinked away the blank look she had, she looked around. ‘I’m here, yes, I am. I am nowhere near there. I am here, in the rain. That place… I’ll never be there, forever cordoned from me by poverty and… myself, just me, by being who I am, I’ll never get to be there. If I were, too many innocents would end up dead. Best I’m here. Where death is as common as a cough.’  
She stopped walking. “Ah,” she said softly. She glanced back at the person who just passed her, a man in a trench coat holding a metal suitcase. She continued walking, picking up her pace and doing her best to appear normal, to blend in with the crowd, it was a big enough street that there were gaps and if she did a wrong motion, she’d catch the eye of the wrong person. She walked faster and faster until before she knew it her gait became a loping dash down the streets. She ran for blocks, feeling eyes on the nape of her neck, hearing the clack of the bolts and latches on the metal frames of their suitcases, shouting for her stop but she didn’t and continuing on without pause or thought until she finally ceased by an alleyway that she darted into, waiting and watching and listening… Time passed but nobody came her way... ‘I lost them.’ She exited on the other side of the alleyway.  
A stinging feeling droned along her skin, mostly where her scars were, but also in a general way, as if her body had become a television taking in dead signals. The rain never relent in her wanderings in the city. Every street darkened and folded into each other mystically. She stops. Her hand runs across a building’s wet wall, one strewn with posters ruined by the rain. She saw her name, her family name, not hers exactly, and there, one of the posters was ruined nigh on fully except for the eyes of the drawn face. They were not her eyes. She stared at them, they were unfamiliar eyes despite her knowing whom they belonged to, their gaze made her eyes glassy and her vision go to a place so far-away that everything there was shadowy and obscured by her decaying memory. Screams echoing in her psyche, her mind aching just for a sight of what she was envisioning but there was nothing but the noise, a noise like an ordnance blitz, and the only thing she could make out was a single word: Run. She didn’t. She remained where she was, staring at the eyes of the poster, patches of memory crackling in and out like the unstable signals of a waning radio: a warm smile, a comforting hug, a candid laugh, her palm in another – her mother’s, a sunset, a sunrise, her half-asleep body being brought to bed from the floor in front of the TV, a kiss on the forehead. She stayed standing before the eyes for a long while, until she turned around and walked away. She took several steps before her legs faltered and she stumbled into an alley with her hands on her head, her fingers covering her face. She crouched with her head in her hands, the rain too loud to hear her, then her voice rose, saying: Get up, move, come on, get up, move, hurry. She sighed. Quiet. She put her hands on her knees and stood. She punched the wall with all her force, her knuckles bled. She carried on. The spot where she hit, riven and crumbling.  
Shinro Masahiro at last returned to a familiar street. ‘I must be a block away now, maybe two.’ She kept walking. It was late, the rain-clouds of the day had subsided and the night sky shown immense and dark above Shinro, the city lights blinding her vision from the infinite stars aloft. She reached the apartments.  
She climbed up to the balcony, and when she hopped up, she heard a voice.  
“A-”  
She knocked into Shinji and they both fell onto the balcony floor.  
“Sorry,” Shinro said.  
“It’s all right. It didn’t hurt.”  
They both got into a sitting position. Shinji rubbed the back of his head while Shinro touched her nose. She stared at him and he was looking down, maybe his eyes shut – she couldn’t tell – she felt better, and so did he, knowing she was safe. He looked up.  
“Where were you?”  
“Out.”  
“I was worried.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
A silence came between them.  
He smiled, she was looking down. “I guess it’s okay… It’s not like I’m your guardian or anything.”  
“Yeah...” She looked up. “Thank you for worrying.”  
They went inside. She put her belongings by the door. They sat at the bed.  
“Are you hungry?” he asked.  
“Yes.”  
He gestured to the hand with a bruise and blood. “Are you okay?”  
“Yes.” She hid it beneath a pillow she picked up.  
He looked at the pillow then her face, she was looking away. “Okay.”  
He cooked a patty with no seasonings, doing his best to not think about what the meat was actually.  
He puked at lunch. Jun and him went to Beef Burg. He ordered his regular elk-burger but when he took a bite he had the instant urge to barf. But he held it in until he was done with lunch, then he excused himself to the restroom and hurled into the toilet bowl. He did his best to keep it quiet but he doubted he did so well in hiding this embarrassment. Jun did not bring it up when they returned to the university, to which, he was thankful. After classes he and Jun parted ways and Shinji made his way home. On the way, he saw that middle-aged woman again, in the crowd ‘what’s her name again?’ he thought. She was carrying a musette bag. ‘Mariya… Itou. That’s it, right?’ His gaze followed her going through the crowded street. ‘Yes, I think so. Maybe I should talk to her… no. No I shouldn’t. I won’t.’ He went home.  
He didn’t drink coffee at all today, and he felt it when he got home. He felt horridly nauseous. Which was exacerbated by the time he realised Shinro wasn’t with him and had zero signs of returning. This situation was an oddity, to him at least, and probably to most… he didn’t know Shinro so why should he feel as he did about her, and why should he feel her absence at all. This was the umpteenth time he came to an empty apartment, but this time it felt different. The laminar flow of the few days they spent together made him think it would remain that way for a while: weeks, months, maybe even years. As he had with his previous love interests, fictive as they were – all his prior crushes had been from afar and were classmates or coworkers or a passersby – he imagined a life with her, very far ahead, and now, today, it was like he was awoken from a dream that lasted a lifetime. He awoke from dreams like that on several occasions, and on days when he did an overwhelming sadness came over him even when the dreams themselves dissolved and all that was left was the feeling they gave. ‘My caryatid has departed. To where, I do not know. Left to somewhere and now I just think of somewhen in my head that never did exist...’ He sat up and grabbed the card from the bedside table, looking at the neat lettering that spelled out Mariya Itou, he ran his thumb across the number. ‘I could call...maybe I should. Then again, what would I say? Shinro is no longer here and they only have my word. And if I remember right… Ghouls are treated same as criminals, murders, and I would be regarded as an accomplice. Who knows what they’d do to me, it’d have to be humane… I am still human, I have rights. Ghouls don’t. Would I do time…? I somewhat want to, it’d be worry free, maybe. Depending on where they place me, but I’m being naive. Prison or jail or wherever it is, wouldn’t be nice, and I’m insulting the incarcerated by thinking that in the first place. Forget it.’ He threw the card and it landed on the carpeted floor.  
At eleven pm he went onto the balcony. He stared at the city, at the CCG building. ‘Hard to believe that there are ghouls all over this place. Maybe not everywhere, but there’s enough that someone like Itou needs to be here. Needs?’ The poster board in the corner store flashed in his mind, unbidden, reminding him of the many missing posters. ‘Yes, needs… more people will die if Itou left, same for the rest of the local CCG. So, why do I want them just to disappear?’ He heard rustling from below.  
The lights were on, sallow lights, and Shinji and Shinro sat on the bed, eating.  
“Thank you, Shinji, it’s delicious.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
Shinro looked at the sandwich he made, it was peanut butter and butter.  
“You should eat better.”  
“You too.”  
“Huh?”  
“Nothing.”  
Shinro right brow rose slightly then she shrugged and took another bite of her patty.  
Shinji finished his sandwich, wiping his hand on his thigh. “What made you say that?”  
“What?”  
“That I should eat better.”  
“I don’t know… just some advice.”  
“Aren’t I more appealing as I am to you? More meat.”  
She laughed dryly. “No...I personally like them not to be too fatty nor muscular.”  
“So average?”  
“Yes.”  
“I’m not average?”  
“I’d call you anything but that, Shinji.”  
“Thanks?”  
“Welcome.”  
“So why should I eat better.”  
She held her fork by her mouth, tilting her head, audibly going h’m… “I think… I’d like you to stay with me for a long time. And I hear heart disease and disease of that ilk are caused by a bad diet. Thus shortening our time together, which I would very much hate.”  
Shinji stared at her: there was not a single sign of her joking, her face in fact only furthered the sincerity of her words.  
“I...okay. I’ll try.”  
“Thanks.”  
She took the last bite of her patty. Shinji handed her napkin and took her plate. He rinsed the plate and turned off the tap.  
“Also, you should also work out.”  
“I thought you said you didn’t like them muscular.”  
“For eating, I’m not going to eat you.”  
“Even if I tell or run.”  
“I said I’d kill you, but not eat you. I could never do that.”  
He sat back onto the bed. “Thank you.”  
She held her feet together with her hands, she looked at her lisle socks. ‘Hal really has expensive taste.’ “No need for thanks.”  
“So why should I work out?”  
“To defend yourself.”  
“Against?”  
“CCG, ghouls.”  
“I don’t think I could defend against either of them.”  
“Not yet.”  
“Not ever.”  
“You needn’t be so pessimistic, anything is possible.”  
He looked dubiously at her. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll try that too.”  
“Good. Thanks.”  
“Don’t thank me for that, it’s something I should have done on my own a while ago anyway.”  
“Okay.”  
“You call this a… providential thing. What thing I don’t know, but definitely providential. Probably.”  
“Why do you do that?”  
“What?”  
“Use words like those.”  
“I don’t know...I guess, I use them when I don’t really know what to say. It makes it easier to say the things going on in my head.”  
“Do you ever just say whatever, just to say something.”  
“All the time.”  
“Me too.”  
They smiled.  
“I think it’s time to go to bed,” Shinji said.  
Shinro nodded.  
Shinji shut off the lights and they got into bed.  
Shinji felt the palpitations begin to subside. ‘Rallentando,’ he thought.  
Later into the night, while Shinro snored softly beside him, Shinji stared at his hand. The bones and sinew beneath ached, specifically the bone of his knuckles. ‘Rheumatism. From you, mom.’ He shut his hand into a fist, then he opened it and spread his fingers out, holding his hand up to the ceiling. ‘Oh what do I do with myself now.’ He shut his eyes and did his best to rest, ‘Three hours, four hours. Inhale Exhale.’ He fell into a dream.  
Without either of their knowledge, there was someone on the balcony, looking at Shinro and Shinji sleeping, face hidden by a coyote mask, shadowed by the night. This was their nth visit to the apartment. They tried the sliding doorhandle. It opened. They entered. They stepped silently across the apartment, doing their best to hide themselves, even their silhouette. They stopped and crouched at the corner of the bed. The mask arched in degrees to look at Shinji then Shinro. It stayed at the corner for awhile before returning across the room to the slidingdoor and exiting. They jumped off the balcony, grabbing and holding onto a nearby streetlight post. They took off their mask, showing a motherly face.  
“Oshino,” she whispered.  
A little girl came around the corner from an alley.  
“Mama,” the girl said.  
The two hugged.  
“No food this time, sorry.”  
“Okay. I’m not hungry much, mama.”  
“Let’s go home.”  
Oshino rubbed her eyes. “Yeah. I’m tired.”  
“I’ll carry you.” The mother crouched down, patting her shoulders.  
Oshino climbed on. “Thanks.”  
They walked away from the apartments.  
Shinro eyes were opened a crack, then she opened them fully and sat up. She looked about the room then at the balcony. She smelled the air. ‘So that’s what whose scent I’ve been smelling. Thought I’d gone mad.’ She lay on her side, looking at Shinji’s face. ‘Good thing I’m here… they probably would have killed you. But since I’m here. I doubt they will now. It was faint the first few days but I can tell it’s the same one as before.’ She put a hand on Shinji’s cheek. ‘I’ll protect you.’


	7. Blood

Mariya Itou adjusted her jeans, tightened the belt, and looked herself in the mirror, she moved a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘My day off, finally.’ She sighed, smiling. Then her brow furrowed. ‘But…’ She opened the drawer of the mirror-table, grabbing a binder, she flipped through a couple tabs. ‘Here.’ She tapped on the sketch of Shinro. ‘You, are a little trickster, aren’t you. Now, if only you hadn’t slipped that one time, we may have never heard of you. Lucky us. And I guess… lucky you that it’s my day off.’ She put the binder back then went to the bedroom door. She went downstairs, and smelled the air. “Breakfast smells good, hon.”  
A teenager’s face peaked around the corner leading to the kitchen. “Sure does, almost done.”  
“Hooray.”  
She sat down at the dining table. Her daughter brought two plates soon after, setting them next to each other. “Lonely, huh?”  
The daughter brought a chair next to Mariya’s. “You’ve been out late everyday.”  
“I’m sorry, but that’s work.”  
“I get it. Can you try and understand my side too?”  
“Yes. I never said you couldn’t.”  
Mumbling: “You never say anything.”  
Mariya raised a brow. “Huh?”  
“Never mind, okay?”  
Mariya studied her daughter’s downward-facing profile. She sighed. “Okay.”  
They ate the scrambled eggs and bacon, the daughter having toast and apple juice while Mariya washed it all down with a glass of water. Once finished they rinsed their dishes and went to the mudroom. Both put on matching sneakers and left. Mariya locked the door, paused, unlocked the door, opened it and looked back at her daughter. “Wait here, Annya.”  
Annya nodded.  
She took off her sneakers, went upstairs, returned to her room and stopped bedside. On her knees she reached underneath the bed and grabbed her musette bag.  
She locked the door again, turned around and faced a frowning Annya.  
“Why are you bringing that,” she said.  
Mariya smiled. “You know why...you can never be too safe.”  
Annya kept her frown.  
“Let’s go. Come on.”  
She walked past her daughter and began down the narrow street, Annya lagging behind for several steps before jogging to her mother’s side. It was a bright but gray day.  
“Oshino, come come.”  
“Okay, Okay.”  
“Let’s get coffee.”  
“Yes, mama.”  
A bell jingled when they entered and an adolescent waitress lead them to a seat.  
“This is a nice cafe, huh?”  
Oshino nodded.  
The waitress returned to their table with a notepad. “What’ll we be having today.”  
“Two blacks, double-shot for me, single for her.”  
“Got it.”  
The waitress left.  
“Why just one, mama?”  
“You’re still young. Don’t want to stunt your growth. You have to grow tall and thewy.”  
“Thewy?”  
“Yes, it means strong.”  
“Are you thewy, mama?”  
“Somewhat, yes. But, mama hasn’t been working so much lately so she isn’t as strong no more.”  
She looked out the window. ‘Good. Hopefully, I never have to work like that again.’ Her grip tightened on her elbow.  
“Here you go, Uea.”  
“Thank you,” said the mother.  
“And here you are, Miss Omaru.”  
“Thank you very much,” said Oshino, beaming at the waitress.  
The waitress smiled back and pinched her cheek. “So cute. Have a good day, you two.”  
“You too.”  
Oshino watched the waitress leave to another table then looked at her mom. She giggled. “She’s so nice.”  
“Indeed she is.”  
The mother sipped her coffee, the child followed with a whimper and sticking out her tongue.  
“It’s hot.”  
“Yes it is.”  
The mother returned her eyes to the window. She was greeted with a smiling visage in the pane. It was Shinro. Her lips moved but fell death on both their ears. Shinro raised her palm. Oshino waved, giggling. Shinro’s eyes stayed locked on them as she went toward the entrance. A bell jingled.  
The waitress walked up to Shinro.  
“Hi, Masahiro, where would you like to-”  
She walked past her, grabbing a nearby chair and dragging it behind her, the wooden legs screeching against the lino. She put the chair at their table.  
“Here’s fine.”  
“That’s...”  
“Here is fine.”  
“Okay.”  
Uea glared at her. “We’re no trouble to you.”  
“That’s what you believe.”  
“We aren’t trouble to anybody.”  
“Sure...”  
“We-”  
Shinro sighed heavily. “We already have one of your type in this ward. We don’t need another.”  
“Who’s we?”  
“We, us, you know who. Don’t act dumb, Uea, it doesn’t fit you.”  
Uea fell silent.  
“Control yourself, Uea. You have a kid now, I’d thought it’d change you, but it hasn’t. You don’t deserve her, y’know.”  
“Shut it.”  
“Mama, what’s she meaning?”  
“Nothing, darling. Nothing at all. Right, Masahiro.”  
Shinro looked at Uea then at Oshino. “Yes, yes. Nothing to worry about, little one. Well, I better get going.” She got up. She leaned toward Uea. “You understand don’t you?”  
Uea nodded.  
“Good. Otherwise...” Her eyes narrowed, slowly moving from Uea to Oshino. “You know.”  
Shinro waved with her back to them. “Talk to you later. Or not. Who knows.”  
The waitress followed Shinro, holding out a coffee to-go. “Your usual.”  
“Thank you.”  
“No, thank you, Masahiro.”  
Annya yawned and sighed. “That was fun.”  
“Yes, it was…a very good movie.”  
“Mhm.”  
“But I’m tired.”  
“Me too.”  
“Want to take the train?”  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
The cart was virtually vacant. There were three other people. One man sat alone in a corner, while a woman and a girl-child sat together. Mariya and Annya sat opposite them. The girl-child was asleep, and Annya soon followed. The woman stared at the ground and Mariya studied her downward face. She waved a hand that bordered on the woman’s vision, making her look up. The woman waved, and Mariya mouthed hello. You have a cute kid, she mouthed. The woman signed thank you. Mariya asked with signs if the woman knew sign language. The woman shook her head.  
“What’s your name,” she whispered, hands cupped round her mouth. “Mine’s, Mariya.”  
The woman looked embarrassed for a moment then said, “Uea.”  
“What a pretty name.”  
“Thank you. You too.”  
Mariya nodded towards the girl. “What about her.”  
“Oshino.”  
“Oshino...that’s a great name. Mine here...” knudging her daughter lightly, making her stir and groan. “is Annya. Annya Itou.”  
“Itou...ours is Omaru.”  
“Oshino Omaru, has a very nice ring to it, a very solid name.”  
“Thank you.”  
The train stopped. They both looked at the electronic signs above their heads.  
“This is my stop,” said Mariya. She shook Annya awake. “Come on, time to go sleepyhead.”  
They got up and left, Mariya and Uea waved at each other.  
“Have a nice day.”


	8. Animosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinro and Shinji begin their training. And a glimpse into the past of Uea and Oshino.

She stared, motionless. His gaze focused on her arms, hips, and core. The motion was imperceptible to him and the impact landed harshly, loudly. He dropped to this knees, coughing and wheezing.  
“You’re too slow,” Shinro said. “You must improve, you’ll die otherwise. I’m being soft on you, y’know.”  
Shinji coughed. “I...know...but – shouldn’t I work on my body before all this? I’m still weak.”  
“Indeed you are. This is just a test to see how you’d fair currently. You would die... in a blink, without any resistance, no excitement, just your blood covering a ghoul’s hands… or an investigator’s quinque.” She shrugged. “Who knows. If they found out about us you’d be considered an accomplice, and a terrorist. Not against just the CCG but humanity itself. Are you okay with that?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why?”  
“I...never had much footing with society anyway. At least with this, I’ll be remembered in some way. Even if it’s in a bad way, my existence shall be memorable with this. Without you, without all this right now, I’d have faded into obscurity. Alone and forgotten.”  
“You’re odd, Shinji, very very odd.”  
He smiled. “Yes, I know. I don’t care.”  
“Well...that’s enough bruising for today. For a while, actually. Now we got to bulk you up. First your diet. Enough of the junk!”  
“Huh?”  
She threw several chips away. “These are no good, no good at all! They have no value for you now.”  
“They taste good though.”  
“Yes, but there are foods better tasting and better for you.”  
“I don’t want to eat human flesh.”  
“Nobody suggested that. But there will be meat.”  
“Huh?”  
“Yes, lots of meats and veggies and some fruit for your sweet-tooth. And less coffee, more water. Coffee dries muscles, I hear.”  
“That’s no fair, you get coffee, but I don’t?”  
“I’ll stop drinking coffee too, we ghouls need water just like everything else with a pulse, so you and I’ll just drink water instead.”  
“Okay...”  
By that night, both of them had a headache and a stomachache.  
Shinro was in the fetal position, holding her gut. ‘Ah...god, why. Feels like my cells are crumbling.’  
Shinji was in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. A layer of sweat coated his face. His breathing labored. ‘You’re okay, you’re okay.’ His eyelids felt heavy, he worked to keep them open, if he relaxed they’d shut. He exited: Shinro was gone again. ‘Goddamnit.’ He sat down. The clock showed eleven. He opened his phone and went to contacts, he selected Jun. The phone rang for a second. A sleepy voice answered.  
“Can I come over?”  
“Sure man. What’s up?”  
“So I can?”  
“I said sure.”  
“Thanks.”  
The city lights silhouetted her against the void of the night sky. Her pocket shone a blue light, a vibration. She answered. “What is it?” She watched a satellite’s red light dimly hovered through the nimbus covering the skyline. “All right. I hear, I hear. I’ll look into it. So the info is recent and reliable? Okay, good. I’ll tell you when it’s over.” She hung up and sighed. She stretched. “Goodness...” She leapt down.  
Nobody walked the streets. She noticed someone after awhile. A person walking with an attache, but not at all in the appropriate attire for it. She dropped noiselessly into a close-by alleyway. She peered round the corner. ‘Young.’ She smelled the air. ‘Human...male.’ They neared the corner, she stepped out with her mask on. “Who are you?”  
The young man turned to her, smiling. “Oh. Me? Nobody.”  
The attache opened and Shinro sprinted, she stopped right in front of him, blocking. She crashed into a nearby concrete wall. She got up, into a crouched stance, examining his quinque. A glowing blood-red halberd. He stepped forward, bringing the blade forth toward her head, she heaved herself under the swing. She kicked and he caught the blow with the pole. She flipped backwards. He took a defensive posture, the tip aimed at Shinro. A glower was on her face, while his face wore a grin with vacant eyes. She broke their locked eyes, hearing running from behind her. She snarled, her teeth clenched.  
She kicked gravel into his face, he flinched, and she sprinted into an alley. She jumped up the walls. On the roof she stopped and crouched. He looked around. She whistled, he looked up at her, then she waved. He smiled and laughed. She turned and ran away.  
“You’re lucky,” she shouted.  
He lowered the halberd. “No. I’m not.” The footsteps stopped nearby. He turned to them.  
“What’s wrong, Gozo.”  
Gozo knelt, collapsed the halberd and returned it to the attache. He waved, nonchalantly. “Nothing nothing, just a stray scavenger, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”  
“Was it the crow?”  
He looked over his shoulder, smiling. “Yes… you have an obsession in them don’t you, Mariya?”  
Mariya frowned. “Please don’t say such ugly things, Imamura.”  
“Sorry sorry, let’s get something to eat. The night’s yet young.”  
“All right.”  
Uea’s bloodied hand held Oshino’s, and Oshino wept while they fled from the tenement where her mother died. They rested at a bus stop, Oshino wiped her eyes while Edith sparked a cigarette, took a drag and coughed. The streetlight by the bus stop was out, so Uea’s lighter and the cigarette embers and ashes faintly lighted the night purlieu. Uea’s throat was dry, the air turbid with fog. She smiled at Oshino, but Oshino’s eyes were down. Uea stared at the top of Oshino’s head, her hair, which Uea called gamine. ‘The bus...’ Uea thought, ‘Come I don’t have--’ she stared at the bus schedule board that read: Weekends Off.  
Uea lead Oshino by hand through alleys instead of streets. She checked her wristwatch: dead. ‘Batteries,’ she thought, ‘small and expensive. Not worth buying. Oh that’s right, she gave it to me. Why, that’s something.’   
“Eh?”   
She stopped. Oshino glanced at her, when their eyes met, Oshino turned away. “Have any questions?” Four blocks away a dog barked, and Oshino was silent.   
“None? Good.”   
They carried on, Oshino lagging. Beside an avenue, Uea considered a cab, but her cell was dead. ‘Besides, late as it is, the cabs are busy with bringing souses home from the bars.’ It began to rain and the passing curtain-shut windows held myriad rivulets. Uea removed her coat and put it on Oshino, then put Oshino on her back. ‘I should’ve grabbed the umbrella. It’s by the door. And we had plenty of time. We could have stayed there for weeks. But she didn’t want that. Me neither. Well, we’re gone. No use returning for just an umbrella. All we need is our clothes and my money. When they’re dirty and the last dollar is spent, well, we’ll be alright still. There’s worse to worry about when that time comes – hopefully it’s much later – and maybe I’ll have a plan.’ Even with Oshino on her back, Uea kept up their initial pace. But when she stopped in a tight-walled alley, she almost fell. “Here we are.”  
Oshino looked at the place: a house that looked like a hovel compared to its neighbors. Shuttered windows, a stone wall with a prison-like door, and beyond that a puny wildflower yard, where a woman statuette hid. Oshino began to listen to her heartbeat, and surprisingly, hers was slow despite it all – and she could hear past the rain and past the fabric, Uea’s heartbeat: it was fast from it all – then her eyes shut and she recalled memories before it all happened. The prison-like door rasped open.  
Late into the night Oshino’s mother was at work, and she had Uea as company and Uea sat across the low-table, reading. The television was off, rain bickered against the window. The lights gone from unpaid bills. So Uea brought over candles, stippling the tenement with an ecru hue. They sat across one another. Sitting in this candle-lit dusk, barefoot and mute, almost gave them the air of monks. But Uea’s book and craned neck, and Oshino’s antsy left leg and constant face-touching, took that air away and replaced it with the restless, apathetic, and dull air of insomniacs. Oshino yawned then looked at Uea.  
“Do you got more books?  
“No. You want one?”  
“Yes.”  
“The best kinds, all gifts.”  
“Any fun ones.”  
Uea mused. “Maybe...depends on what you like. What do you like?”  
“I dunno.”  
“Come on, try.”  
“Pictures and adventure ones. I read one with both.”  
“Ah, that’s very nice. But sadly I don’t have any like that. Just these mystery books. This one is about a disappearance...want it?”  
“Yes please.  
“So formal, good girl. Here you go.”  
She looked at the title. “Fingers on the Wuh-wuh?”  
“Wires. Fingers on the wires. You can keep it. I’ve read it too much.”  
Oshino noticed it was dogeared, and its pages discolored from oils and sweat. She went to the first page and saw the highlighted first paragraph with words underlined, their definitions in the margins. She recognized the first paragraph she looked up at Uea excitedly.  
“I’ve heard these words before.”  
“I have?”  
Oshino nodded. “Yes, I know them. The words. You read them.”  
“Oh? Wait, no….I've never read to you.”  
“You have. But on accident.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You talk sometimes. With a book in your hands. I never understood what it was you was saying. But it was words from this.”  
Uea chuckled. “I never knew. Always thought I was speaking in my head.”  
Oshino looked at the book again. “Thank you very much.”  
“You’re very welcome.”  
Oshino opened the book and began reading aloud to herself. Oshino her backpack from beneath the table, and a bottle set by the table leg fell. It landed on the carpet, making a hollow noise that made Oshino look up with pained eyes.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I forgot about that.”  
Oshino and Uea sat on a couch supported by cinderblocks. Uea in smallclothes while Oshino wore a shirt several sizes too big for her. A woman the same age as Uea sat in a swivel chair, she wore pajamas and stared at Uea. She was expressionless, though if stared at long enough, the vague sense came that the woman was pissed.   
“How’ve you been, Yuko?”  
Yuko’s lips tightened. “You smoke?”  
“I’d never, remember?”   
“I remember. I told you to never.”   
“Yeah, you sure did. Sis, mom, you, and even the air. Now, is it okay if we stay here a while?”  
“Sure can. Seem to have good reasons. Arriving here all helter-skelter like. May I ask why?”   
Uea turned to Oshino – who now snored – she turned back to Yuko. “Maybe later That okay?”   
Bronte blinked between Uea and Oshino, she lingered on Oshino’s face. “I guess so. Keep it down. Can she do that?”  
“She can, she’s quieter than silence itself.”  
‘While listening to rain,’ Uea thought. ‘Beneath this foreignly familiar roof, I want to run. Without her, just leave her here. She’s better off with Yuko. I’m a coffin. Another corpse in my body, I prepared and buried this one myself. About time I go too, let the maggots eat me finally. Who knows...’ she looked at her veins, ‘I may already have them. I feel dead.’ She stared at Oshino’s sleeping face ‘Who knows how she feels. She seems okay. Just seems. I don’t want to know for sure. It’s so quiet here. Sounds like the street, no more than that, the whole city is empty. It’s late. All’ve absconded into their ethers. I should too.’   
“Time for sleep.”  
Uea pulled out the covers over herself. The windowpane held the alley they were in an hour ago, painted with sunrise rather than streetlight.. In the dark Uea and Oshino lay abreast. Uea’s eyes shut and opened a second later to look at the ceiling. ‘I won’t sleep. I don’t want dreams now. Cause now those dreams are raw and real.’ Oshino’s snores tickled Uea’s eardrum. Uea’s vision upended, the ceiling spun, and the early sunlight slanted and diffused above her then stung the banks of her eyes. She shut her eyes with a sigh. ‘Sleep, come here sheep, help me please.’ She pretended to sleep. Her dream beside her, sleeping.  
Only ravens were in the park Wind passed trees, winnowing through the boughs. Close to the bench, ravens burst away and vanish into the gray PM sky. They sat down. Both put their bags between them. Uea pulled out Fingers on the Wires, looking at Oshino through the corners of her eyes. ‘Got sick of it?’ Oshino sat, chin on knees. She took the whole place in, but also nothing at all, her ears rung with the odd reverb of silence that made her feel like her ears disappeared. The screams and laughter of elementary kids came from everywhere even the sky. A raven cawed and seagulls cried. Oshino sighed. “What do we do here?” she said.  
“Lay low and find a new home.”  
“What’s that mean?”  
“No clue, honestly.”  
“We’re doing what we’ve done at home.”  
“I guess so.”  
Oshino pointed. “I wanna go there.”  
“There, eh?” Uea looked up at the CCG building. “That concrete finger.”  
“That’s my word.”  
“Words, and yes. But also no. We can’t right now. We’re not tourists.  
“What are we?”  
“I don’t know...wanderers I guess. Wanna go someplace?”  
“I maybe got one place.” She turned her eyes up to a raven, its head tilted at her. “I got one!”  
“Where’s it?”  
“Let’s go meet him again. It’s been a long second since.”  
“Huh...oh, there. Sure, why not?”  
Oshino smiled and they gathered their stuff. A derelict left the public restroom. Passersby began to filter into the park. Idle, indistinct gossip about dead nobodies. The ravens left.  
Gridlock in the streets. Exhausted painted the air. Uea touched the bumps on her skin, her anxiety. Litter by curbs. Puddles on asphalt and blacktop, the smell of wet concrete and salty rocks. Rainwater flowed in concrete-channels and dripped down the drain-grates. Sour rinds. Cars honked.   
Oshino grabbed Uea’s hand. Uea turned and smiled.  
“You okay?”   
Oshino nodded.  
“That’s very good. Any questions?”   
“...”  
“All right, let’s go.”  
The door shut and they were greeted by the scent of incense. Uea guided Oshino into a padded pew in the corner. There were just a few other customers. Everyone here was relaxed, making the restless tapping of a girl at the bar stand out. Hal came out from behind the door-hanging with a backpack and handed it to the girl who promptly left. Hal came over to their table just as the door shut.  
“Who was that?” said Uea.  
“That was a new-hire of mine, Shinro’s her name.”  
“Ah, all right.”  
“Having the same as last time?”  
“Yeah. That okay with you, Oshino?”  
Oshino nodded.  
Hal left for awhile and returned with two steaks. “Enjoy,” he said.  
“Thank you.”  
Uea began cutting into hers. Oshino cut off a piece, putting it in her mouth. Both chewed.  
“You like it?”  
“Yes,” Oshino said. “It’s my favorite.”  
“Yay.”


	9. Feed

“You still seeing that mystery girl?”  
“Yeah,” Shinji said.  
“Is she cute?”  
“I don’t see why that matters but yeah.”  
“Good for you.”  
“How about you, any luck?”  
“Nah...”  
“None of the waitresses confessed? You’d think they would after how many months you’ve payed their rents.”  
“Hey… that’s not why I do it.”  
“Sure.”  
“I mean it.”  
“Okay.”  
“Well,” Shinji said. “I better get back. She might worry.”  
“You say that like she’s your wife. Is she.”  
“No...of course not.”  
Jun smiled. “You never know.”  
“Ha...I guess not.”  
“Stay safe.”  
“I will.”

“Shinji Yamaoka….is that your new plaything Masahiro? How strange.”  
She jumped down onto a nearby balcony, the eyes behind her bear snout-mask tracking Shinji. She dropped down into a dark alley and waited. Shinji’s footsteps were nearing. He entered the flicker of a streetlight, his shadow casting on her, his eye twitched and he stopped to rub it. She ran out of the dark. He turned.  
“H-”  
Her punch landed square in his jaw and he flew back, flipping once and landing limply onto the sidewalk. She strolled over to him, crouched over his body, putting an ear to his mouth.  
“Alive, good. My intention was not to kill you, Yamaoka.”  
She patted his unconscious face. “Let’s go.” With Shinji on her shoulder she climbed back to the roofs, bounding easily through the air and gaps between the eaves.

He awoke into deafening silence, he half-lifted himself with his arms before returning to the ground. The floor was warm and soft: foam. The small door opened and the singular sallow light above burnt his eyes as it turned on, Kirika stopped inside.  
“Who-”  
“I’m Kirika. An acquaintance of your friend.”  
“Shinro?”  
“Yes.”   
She went prone and put her cheek against his and sniffed him. “Ah… you smell different. She’s beefing you up. I’d say to eat, but that’s not right. It’s an alluring smell but judging by her tastes it’s not a meal or feast, you’re something else for her. Your RC levels are rising. In a couple months, you might become like us. Halfway at least. Let me, speed that up.”  
She left the cramped puny room and returned soon with a cooler. She set the cooler beside him and opened it. He looked down: a sea of marbled red.  
“This is my collection, but do not worry. I am not stingy like most of my kind. I share with my friends and a friend of my friend is...you get it. And you get this.”  
She pulled out a packet and opened, holding the flesh in her hand. She brought it to his face.  
“Eat,” she said.  
He opened his mouth and she put the meat on his tongue. He chewed, feeling nauseous with how bloody it was, his preference was for well-done meat; he’d eat charred meat over rare meat. He swallowed.  
She lightly slapped his cheek with her blood-stained hand. “Good boy.”

Shinro sat in Shinji’s bed, in his apartment, waiting… he wasn’t here when she arrived. His phone was on the bedside table. His shoes and coat were gone. ‘He left. To a friend’s. He always had the scent of someone else on him, but a male scent not a female. So no reason to worry there. But there is reason to worry about him now. Maybe I should go to that place… what was it called?’  
“Me and Jun wen to Beef Burg today.”

She looked around at the tables and the waitresses with outfits vaguely resembling a sandwich. She sat down and a waitress came over. She ordered an elk-burger. ‘His favorite,’ she thought. She sipped on water, the glass shaking slightly in her hand. ‘Get your nerves together.’ It was her nerves but it was also the ramifications of going cold-turkey on her coffee… she drank it for most of her life. Her father loved it and her father made good coffee in the morning for her, her mother, and him to drink.  
The elk-burger smelled terrible and tasted worse but she chewed and swallowed like any other customer in the restaurant. While swishing her mouth with water she noticed a distinct smell in the air, her head followed it until she saw a tall young man sitting at a table next to the door. She smelled in his direction. ‘That must be Jun,’ she thought.  
She waited until he got up to leave, checking about her to make sure no staff would notice her exit. He left and she shortly followed. Short, she indeed felt short. He wasn’t monstrously tall but he was definitely taller than most people she knew, or more accurately, ghouls. She tailed him until he went into a large, effluent-looking house on the other side of city. She jumped onto the roof of the building across from it, going into prone. She waited. He entered a room on the second floor that she could see into through a window. She watched him do boring acts of everyday life: watch tv, play games, look at his phone and use his computer. He left the room and she jumped over and grabbed onto the windowsill. She tried to open it and it did. Shinro entered. She went across the room avoiding the trash littering the floor then entered a closet that was much bigger than she anticipated. She sat in the corner by the closet door, leaving the door open a crack to peer out into the room. Jun re-entered soon after, groaning as he sat back in bed, a controller in hand. He shivered and looked at the open window.  
He laughed to himself, mumbling something she couldn’t hear that well: ho..stran...ont ember oin at.  
His hand on the window, she left the closet and began walking toward him. As soon as the sounds of the city and traffic and everything outside was shut away and the room became a vacuum for an imperceptible moment, she put her hand around his mouth and kicked Jun to his knees. She kept her hand over his mouth.  
“Jun. Stay calm. I don’t want to hurt you, that is the one thing I don’t want to do to you. Emotionally, mentally, and especially physically. I am only here to talk. But what I want won’t matter at all if you scream. So please stay quiet, for my sake as much as yours. Now, I’m going to let go and you’re going to be quiet and stay on your knees. Do not scream, do nothing but turn around and look at me. Okay? Nod if it’s okay.”  
Jun nodded.  
“Good. Okay, I’m letting go.” She removed her hand.  
He remained on his knees and looked over his shoulder at her. “Who are you?”  
“That’s not the point of interest right now. What is, is Shinji. Where is he?”  
“I don’t know. He left yesterday.”  
“You honestly don’t know? But you two are friends.”  
“How do you know that?”  
“That is not of your concern.”  
“Then how am I supposed to help?”  
“Shut up.”  
She pushed him down, keeping her shoe on his tailbone. “What are you-”  
“I said to shut up. I’m leaving now.” She put light pressure and stepped on him to move over to the window. “But do not worry. I’ll bring him back to you.”  
“I-”  
She was gone.

She entered, wincing at the heavy incense and ambling hastily to the bar where Hal waited. She looked around and saw the bar was nearly empty. She looked at Hal and he looked back, raising his brow.  
“I need your help,” she said.  
“I gathered that much.”  
“I need to find someone.”  
“Is it the one who you’ve been staying with?”  
Her mouth clenched. “Yes.”  
“I don’t know how much help I can be...right now. There’s investigators moving in more and more from the main office. I’m trying to keep us out of it here. You should too.”  
“But...”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I can be of help.”  
Shinro turned toward the familiar voice…  
Uea stood at the corner pew.  
“When you’d get-”  
“I apologize for intruding, Hal...I know me and my daughter aren’t allowed here anymore.”  
“She’s not your daughter you insane-”  
“Shh...Hal, you hurt me. Now, Shinro, shall I help you or not.”  
Shinro hand tightened into a fist. “If you can...I’ll take it.”  
“I can.” Uea tapped her nose. “I have his scent even now, a benefit of seeing him so often.”  
“Don’t eat him.”  
“I won’t. I don’t take what’s not mine.”  
“That’s a lie,” Hal said.  
“Hal, can you keep an eye on Oshino while I’m gone.”  
“I-”  
Please: Shinro’s eyes said.  
“Sure...”  
“Good,” Uea put her palms together. “Now, let us go and not waste any more time, Shinro Masahiro.”  
“Yes.”


	10. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The torture of Shinji Yamaoka, mind and body and soul. This chapter is meant to be confusing and weird and not exactly enjoyable. I shall accept criticisms towards grammars when within reason, for i know artistic license does not excuse bad grammar, so though it is meant to be addling, it is not meant to be utterly incoherent per se.

The lacerations run all across his body, stinging terribly despite the airlessness.  
“Yes, yes, these are shallow cuts, Inamorata. Ha...yes, that perfectly describes you, after all you are the beta, but in reality...you are a gamma, I’d say. Also… the cuts hurt but you won’t die. And do not worry, I won’t let you die pitifully from infections or some such. That would be far too cruel, likewise it would be much too anticlimactic for you to die that way. You must go into the next life beautifully, grandly.”  
He flinched when she licked the blood from the wound on his cheek. “Succulent.”  
It hurts, he thought, but it’s bearable. I can handle this. It’s like when I fell on the playground in elementary...just a scrape and bruise that can be fixed by a bandage.  
“Oh...” she says. “How strange. I’d never expect you to wear that sort of face, Yamaoka. So brave. So cool...No tears yet, huh? Good, good...I want them to come later, when you must, when you need to, not now. You can...but you needn’t, now you would just be doing it because you want to, croc tears, for my sympathy or empathy or whatever you call it. But see here. You won’t get it. Not ever.”  
She went to the door, turned off the light, and left.

In the dark the pain was worse, for he couldn’t focus on anything, he couldn’t see anything to distract himself from it. The stinging got worse until it felt like his whole body was drenched in fire. He shut his eyes then and tried to distract himself with memories that were faint and faded with time and something else, something he’d hidden from himself for so long. He reopened his eyes to the dark and he saw a light in it, in the corner of his eye and he followed it but it kept at the edges of his vision and he gave up once he was on his stomach. He groaned from the foam floor, it was soft yes but the texture across his incised skin was rough and painful. His cheek rested on the foam and he shut his eyes, the silence heavy against his head, ears, and mind. Laughter, it came somewhere from the dark, behind him, above him, below him; anywhere and everywhere except for where he could see. His teeth and gums ached from raw-flesh bacteria. Every time he looked back into the darkness he felt it becoming longer and, in a way, stronger until he didn’t want to look at the infinity it had become.

She returned with the light that flickered now and again as she crouched over him, grabbing him and putting him on his back. She playfully slapped his face.  
“You’re already feeling it, huh? Practically delusional you are, already… that’s no good. But it is good that I found out so soon. Just means I have to pamper you more. Tell you what, for today you can come out for a little while. Into the kitchen, you can see what I dragged in today.”

She put him in a chair and put her finger over his lips then hers, gesturing him to be silent. He knew, even without her saying so, that if he made any attempt to scream for help, he’d be dead by the time his scream was heard by anyone. He was naked and looking out the window, he figured it was the twelfth floor or thereabouts, it was high up anyhow. She brought a black garbage bag out from the closet by the fridge, putting it on the counter. The contents toppled out: a head, a leg, a torso with breasts, an arm with no hand, and two eyes which he now noticed belonged to the head. She picked up the head and set it on the table before him.  
“This and the rest of this pretty lady is all yours. Yes indeedy. Aren’t I kind, Yamaoka? And sorry about taking a leg and arm, but hey, that’s the cost of you not being my dinner tonight. Some peaceable, tranquil type ghouls like to think our kind can fast for a whole month after just having one body, but I don’t believe that’s quite right; why, that’s more akin to starvation than anything else. I don’t think self-emaciation is such a noble act, in fact it’s rather pretentious and high-headed, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if all these peaceable sorts have their heads so high that the clouds blind them from what reality truly is, which is: We are creatures of predation, we are made to eat, and it just so happens our food is your flesh, Yamaoka… why my kind finds that to be a moral struggle is a labyrinthine enigma, it’s like your kinds vegetarians and vegans, they are utterly insufferable. But that’s just me. Now...” she returns to the bits and pieces, grabbing an eyeball. “It’s time for your feast.”

Should we call it? Red and blue reflecting off the front windows. Saying I love you to a corpse that you hated when its chest harbored a beating heart. Ah the spirits of grains staining the carpet and the lino beneath cracked and revealing the rasping screwed-on floorboards. The knife from the kitchen drawer glistening red from her arms. Isolation. The sun melting in the window, daylight blinding your eyes. Here alone until the rotting smell is strong enough to bring knocking at the front door. Eating yourself internally. Taken away and thrown away into a room that you are in for years. You leave but are segregated from your peers until you extract your heart and trap yourself in rotting walls. Thoughts ringing like that night when you saw a flash, blood, and your ears deaf from the noise. Fading in and out from what’s before you, existence mingling with disembodied visions that make less and less sense as your eyes remain open for many a dawn and dusk. Can’t find what you need. You lose teeth but the nightmare continues. Daylight an undying hammer upon your consciousness. I’m comfortable in the dark.

Time changed in the darkness, day and night nonexistent, merely perpetual darkness and the lightbulb that arrived along with the pain. The words I love you come now and again and she smiled when he said them to her, but the words weren’t meant for her. She kissed his petrified lips. His stomach distended with human flesh. The smell of excreta, faint and close.  
“I worked too hard on this room for you just to defile it like you did...”  
He sat on the toilet, Kirika waiting with him, her back to the door.  
Then back to the dark until she returned with the light, the pain, and the sustenance. His soles and palms are exposed flesh and bone. But at the brim between the flesh and remaining skin… the skin inches minutely, infinitesimally across the sinew.

“Ah... Never had it before but I’ll let you have it. I didn’t even know she was gravid. Lucky!”

I hate you. I’ll kill you. I’ll die. Ah...you hear crying two doors down, so loud and morose and seemingly interminable. The pills rattle in the bottle and you see her run upstairs with them but you don’t follow for this is the nth time she’s gone. You sit on the couch and listen to the door upstairs slam shut. She doesn’t die that night and she never takes the pills. You’re watching kids playing in the park and remember playing too. But now all those friends are all gone except Jun who’s at your door asking you to come out. You never let him in and remain palsied beneath the sheets watching the day paint a picture across the ceiling. It’s hard to breath some days and you let yourself suffocate, hoping your heart will catch in your throat and you don’t have to suffer the stigmata incised upon it. You read in a book about how candles are sometimes put at the head of the bed, two for a corpse. So you see a flames flickering at the bottom of your peripherals and you assume you’re already gone, you may as well be you figure but none of the candles are for you and in intervals you hear a familiar voice calling your name, then an unfamiliar one and then none. And for a long while there is only silence, the knocking at the door stops, the city slumbers without reason, and you stay between four familiar walls that slowly degrade into obscurity as the past impinges upon the present and you cannot feel what is happening in the now and you don’t what is happening you don’t know who you are, you forget and nobody can remind you who you are and you keep wondering and your wallet is missing and your birth certificate and anything that can tell you who you are what you are and what this all means is gone and you are just there in bed but also not also somewhere else in a place that is impossible to describe since it is fashioned of memories so dirtied and oblique that there is no trace of you ever having existed in that space but you feel so at home here, so comforted despite being surrounded by shadows and headless figures that keep their distance despite you reaching out and begging and wanting warmth that never comes until a shadow falls upon your hurting, kneeling self-consumed frame and comes closer until what casts that shadow is before you and you bring up your furtive eyes to see her… Shinro Masahiro a stranger who shows love more than any living thing you’ve ever seen, giving love without catch or contract or secret selfishness and you feel happy and you’re waking easier and notice your smile sneaking upon your lips, letting it stay since it no longer feels like a sin.

“I love you...” Shinji said, his eyes vacant but mouth smiling.  
Kirika pinched his cheek. “Me too, me too. Not you. But myself. I love myself. I like you though. A lot actually. You last longer than most I’ve done this too. Much much longer. But that probably because of your rising RC levels. I never fed anyone flesh before, never occurred to me. Notice I leave your outside self alone some days. That’s too see if it’s working. And surprise surprise, it is. Truth be told I had no idea if it’d stick...but that’s science I suppose, no results without tests my little Guinea. All right, next comes the biggest test so far for you resilience, both this...” she hit his leg. “And this...” she tapped his temple.   
The knife stabbed his leg and his irises enlarge and he screamed. He struggled but she put her knee on his stomach and held his legs down with her other as she sawed into him. The blade dull. He screamed I love you, Shinji Yamaoka. The blood splattered across her hands and face and she grinned. I hate you. Leave me alone. Alone he was all alone. Her laughter infected him and their guffaws echo with delirium. Come out, Shinji. It’s lonely without you. The screaming, laughing, crying intensified as the blade cracked bone. The sirens echoes through the air and the lights, blue and red, are blinding. His face is cold. Hers is blue. There’s redness seeping down her fingers. Voices out of tune crooning in his ears as he screamed and laughed and cried while blood spilled from his near-amputated leg. Her teeth sink into the exposed flesh and she stared at him while swallowing with her grin of crimson. Call it: three twenty-two PM.

“You think it’s here?” Shinro said.  
Uea nodded.  
“Do you know what floor?”  
“Not really,” Uea said.  
“We can’t go floor to floor...it’d take too long.”  
“We did take long to get here...”  
“Yes, I’d say your fault but it’s as much mine as yours.”  
“Right. So, how you want to do this?”  
“Let’s go to the roof and climb our way down, looking through the windows.”  
“I don’t see how that’s better than floor to floor searching.”  
“It’s not much better but at least this way we don’t got to wait on the elevator.”

Make it end. Bring him back to me. I don’t want to live. Huddled in the corner in the dark that’s close and warm and he held his half-collapsed face, putting a finger into the hollow of his eye socket while his other hand scratched the foam with fingers stolen of their nails. The shatter of glass outside, the clatter of chairs, outside the room. Footfalls coming to the door. The door opened. A shadow falls upon the moribund frame. He turned toward the burning light and he raised his last hand. His exposed jaw opened and he tried to talk but couldn’t, difficult to talk with the pain and a missing bottom lip. The light played through the wholes in his chest and the air made a draft through his ribs. She looks so peaceful more than she ever did when alive. It’s as if death was the only help, the only cure for pain.

“Shinji?”


End file.
